


Eyes On Me

by ShakyHades



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: "My friends are also your friends so how come we've never met?", Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin has a massive crush on him, Anakin is sassed by everyone basically, Blushing Anakin, Canonical Character Death, Driver is an enabler, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Obi-Wan sings in a bar, Padmé is my queen in this, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, everyone is a little shit, it's a two year old crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakyHades/pseuds/ShakyHades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, we are looking only for a distraction, but end up finding the best thing our lives will ever have.</p><p>"Talking about his past crush on Padmé had been embarrassing as all hell. Trust her to mention it to his <em>current</em> crush, as if his life wasn’t complicated enough already."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratkinzluver33/gifts).



> Inspired by the music Eyes On Me, the Angela Aki version.  
> I had the idea for this some 5 months ago, and completed the outline of the entire fic like 4 months ago. Of course, the challenge is to actually write it, but I'm determined.  
> This may become the first longer fic I'll finish, because worry not, I _will_ finish this. Might take a while, but I will, so please bear with me.  
>  Endless thanks to Driverpicksthemooseic, for being the incentive I need to keep writing stuff. (tbh the only reason i keep writing is to see her dying reactions, but that will be our secret.)
> 
> eta: If you want, you can go scream at me for being slow @thefiresofmustafar on tumblr.

Despite whatever prejudice he may have faced for it, Obi-Wan liked singing at Amidala’s. It was cozy, and most of the patrons were locals who found in it a quiet place to drink a few beers after work, chat with friends or just relax. It helped that Padmé, the owner, was very strict in her managing, since everyone that got too rowdy was immediately taken out. The simple furniture, of wooden tables and stuffed chairs added to the comfortable air of the establishment, to the point where it almost felt like a second home.

The slightly raised place that Padmé used as a stage was sparse, with a stool for whoever was performing and a microphone stand that usually set aside. Given that the conversations were always in low tones, the voice of the one on the stage carried easily; more than one person had commented about the great acoustics the bar had.

Obi-Wan sings there every Thursday, at 9 p.m., and has done so for almost two years. It started as a way to gain some extra money after college, but it became such a comfortable piece of his weekly routine that he had decided to keep on it even after getting a job.

But lately, it had lost some of its shine. Padmé kept sending him worried glances and trying to get him to talk about things he did not wish to revisit, and it left him feeling off kilter.

He didn’t blame her for worrying. Obi-Wan knew the circles under his eyes were growing darker with the passage of the days, he knew he was quieter and prone to spacing out. Still, he was powerless to stop the outcome of his troubled emotions.

Coming out of another absent episode, Obi-Wan looked up to find Padmé walking towards him, with the expression he was growing to hate. It was too late to try to run away, so Obi-Wan only sighed and resigned himself to the same talk of always.

Padmé sat on one of the stools on the table in front of him, and waited patiently as he unplugged his laptop from the old speakers at the stage and it put away safely, back on it’s case. She kept silent as he rubbed a hand on his whole face and sat, defeated, in front of her.

She started talking quickly, as if to say her piece before he could interrupt her and escape once again. “I know you are tired of me by now, _I’m_ tired of myself by now, but I can’t help it. I’m worried about you, Obi-Wan. I understand the fact that you don’t want to talk about it, but you need to do _something_ . Your current method of dealing with it clearly isn’t effective enough this time, so _please_ , just say you’ll try something, anything,” she ended, looking expectantly, hopeful at him with her big brown eyes.

“Padmé, I know you mean well, and I really am tired of this, yet you must let me cope with it on my own. You can’t take away the nightmares, or my emotions. I’m the only one that can work with them, but I need time, please understand that,” Obi-Wan pleaded. She looked even sadder, almost pitying, but he knew she would let herself pity him. Still, she nodded and let the matter drop.

Helpless was not a good look on her. Padmé was a woman of action, of conviction, and what she hated the most was being unable to help. She understood his situation of course, but it still hurt her. Some part of him not consumed by grief was sad that he was the cause of this feeling within her, but as it was the case with many things recently, there was nothing Obi-Wan could do to stop it.

He looked around, trying to find a distraction for them both. His eyes landed at a blond young man at the corner of the bar, close to the glass of the front entrance window that had the establishment’s name on it. It was strange, thinking about it; that man was always there when Obi-Wan sang, sitting at that same spot. He attributed the fact that he had never noticed it to the young man not being very attention-drawing.

He sat hunched on himself, and as far as he could remember, Obi-Wan had never seen him with another person. He was always simply there, alone, with a drink on the table. And suddenly, his constant presence was intriguing.

He turned back to Padmé, his interest piqued. “Who is that man on the corner, close to the window?” he asked, in a low tone. She pursed her lips at his changing of the subject but let it pass.

“His name is Anakin Skywalker. I have known him since he was a child, and I believe he never missed even one performance of yours,” Padmé replied, after a quick glance to the man in question.

“And what do you think of him?”

She blinked. “Well, he’s very sweet and caring, and funny too. Also, he’s pretty cute.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and felt the beginnings of a smirk. “Pretty cute, huh?”

Padmé laughs, embarrassed, a faint dusting of pink appearing on her cheeks. “Okay, he’s handsome,” she admits, and looks at him as if asking for Obi-Wan to drop it.

Of course, he does no such thing. Instead, he raises another eyebrow, and knows his smirk is on full power. Her blush gets more pronounced, and in a normal day he might have taken pity on her, but it was proving itself too entertaining to do so.

She clearly tries to stop herself from covering her face in embarrassment, but fails. “Alright, alright, he’s gorgeous, goddamnit!”

Obi-Wan laughs deeply, happy to be out of the grief mindset for a while. “There seems to be quite a bit of history there, Padmé.”

She composes herself, and smiles fondly. “That’s because there is. We almost had a thing, back when he turned nineteen. He tried to start a relationship between us, and I was mortified half of the time. His flirting was so awkward, I swear I was trying not to laugh, but sometimes I had to get away ‘cause I couldn’t hold it anymore. He was super sweet, but it didn’t work out. I still think he’s super gorgeous, but I don’t know, it just didn’t feel right,” she said, looking at the man in question. “There was some awkwardness after I told him it just wouldn’t happen, and I know he was a little hurt by it. But with some space and time, we managed to go back to being best friends.”

Obi-Wan resisted the wish to whistle in surprise. “Quite the story indeed. At least there were no hard feelings, right?”

Padmé grins, turning her attention back to Obi-Wan. “Yep. He dealt with it admirably. I know a lot of other boys that wouldn’t have done the same.”

“A sad truth,” he lamented.

A moment of comfortable silence passed. It was freeing, to talk with someone without the burden of sadness, to be able to have a peaceful, teasing conversation with a friend.

When he focuses on Padmé again, she looks pensive, considering. “You know,” she starts, “maybe you should go talk to him. He is, literally, always there when it’s your day to sing, and by now there’s no doubt he’s here for any reason other than your magnificent presence. So you should go and talk to your most loyal fan!” Padmé says, as she rises from the stool and collects herself. “I’ll be behind the bar if you need anything, as always. Have fun!”

Obi-Wan looks at the man sitting alone for a few seconds, before muttering an “Alright, here goes nothing” to himself and rising from his seat. When he gets close to the table, he realizes that the man is probably lost in his own little world, from the way he’s staring fixedly at nothing. The slight frown of his brow makes him look adorable, and Obi-Wan can’t stop the little smile that follows that thought. He sits on the chair in front of the blond and waits for him to come back to their reality.

As the minutes pass, he shows no sign of returning. Obi-Wan smiles, then grins, until he’s fighting to contain his laughter at how long the man is taking to notice him. His reaction will probably be priceless.

Obi-Wan sees the moment the guy snaps out of it, lowering his head to stare at the table. Then he realizes the other pair of hands on it, and looks up, surprised, to Obi-Wan’s face.

Some seconds pass, his laughter becoming harder and harder to contain, while the boy looks at him, clearly still having to process who is sitting in front of him. Obi-Wan can pinpoint the exact moment that realization dawns on him; he tenses, his mouth opens, and he gets red so quickly that Obi-Wan is sure he is getting dizzy.

Of course, that’s when he breaks and the laugh he was trying to desperately to contain comes out. The expression on his face was just too good and he couldn’t help it anymore.

That’s when the boy starts to stammer, getting even redder, and it makes Obi-Wan laugh harder. He can feel the eyes of some of the patrons on him, due to his loudness, and when he looks, he sees they are smiling too.

He tries to contain himself again, because the boy is blushing and looking down at his hands.

Wiping tears from his eyes, breathless, he says, “I’m sorry, but your reaction was just as priceless as I imagined it would be. It was not my intention to embarrass you. I am, though, quite impressed at how fast you turned red. Are you alright?”

The man nodded quickly, and made no motion to speak, so Obi-Wan continued. “I apologize, truly, but that was the best laughter I had in years, so thank you for that. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, but you already know that, don’t you? Thanks for always being here when I sing, it means a lot to have such steadfast support from someone.”

The man looks up, still blushing. “Yeah, I’m Anakin Skywalker. And it’s fine, you’re welcome. I like your voice, it’s very soothing,” Anakin says, and when he realizes what precisely came out of his mouth, he lowers his head again.

Obi-Wan smiles brightly, happy with the praise. “Thank you, really! Padmé told me you never missed a performance of mine. That’s special for me.”

The previously receding blush on Anakin’s cheeks returns on full force. “It- It’s just that- I always have free time on Thursdays- and your voice is really nice- and sometimes Padmé comes and talks with me for a while so really, it’s fine, no big de-”

“Hey, you don’t need to be embarrassed by it, or try to find an excuse. Okay?” Obi-Wan interrupts, squeezing one of Anakin’s hands.

The boy tries visibly to calm himself down, taking a deep breath and looking at Obi-Wan’s hand atop of his own. A few moments pass before he speaks again, and it feels like before, talking with Padmé, like he finally wasn’t struggling to fit somewhere entirely too small for him.

“Alright. So, you mentioned Padmé. Where do you know her from?” Anakin asks, looking genuinely curious.

Obi-Wan settles more comfortably into his seat before launching on his tale. “Well, it was over a decade ago. She was a teenager yet, barely out of childhood, but with a view of the world much too advanced for her age, and a lot of willpower and skill with words to fuel her endeavours. In one of those, she ended up getting the wrong kind of attention, from a grown, mean-looking man.

“The man began to follow her wherever she went, making subtle threats, and she felt very unsafe. My guardian heard of it and decided to help. He started trying to discover the identity of that man, walked with her so that if anything happened, he could protect her. I followed, of course, curious and already used to his random needs to help whoever he found.

“On one of these days, my guardian caught sight of the stalker. He gave chase and they fought, but I didn’t see much of it, since he had told me to get help. When the police arrived though, the man had disappeared. My guardian said he had fled after receiving quite a few hits, and we never heard anything about him again.”

Shaking himself from the memories, Obi-Wan refocuses on Anakin, who is wearing an appropriately surprised expression, with his mouth open and both eyebrows raised.

Anakin leans his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on one hand. “ _Wow_ , that’s quite the story! No wonder you are still friends after all these years, a friendship with a start like that is already strong on principle.”

His reaction rips a chuckle out of Obi-Wan, who smiles fondly. “It does indeed. We’ve had quite the discussions over the years, given that we’re both stubborn, strong-willed individuals. It’s always interesting to share opinions on a matter, and when that happened, we’d almost always try to convince the other of the validity of one’s standpoint, but it rarely went anywhere. As I said, stubborn.”

It is Anakin’s turn to laugh. “I can imagine that perfectly. You’re right, Padmé is very skilled with words. I bet she would make an amazing politician if she wanted, and on that note: if she ever decides to pursue that career, I will thank every god for the fact that she is a good, reasonable woman, with a strong set of morals. At least then I’d be able to sleep safely, without fearing for what kind of crazy thing she’d try to do. And given the quality of your storytelling, I can also totally picture you standing your ground against her. It’s an amazing image, by the way,” he finishes, smirking openly.

“That’s some high praise. And yes, you’re right, about Padmé and politics. If she ever goes down that path, be sure to invite me to your god-thanking ceremony, I would love to join you,” Obi-Wan says, leaning against the back of the chair.

“Gotcha, I’ll do it for sure. It would be epic,” Anakin affirms, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“That it would,” remarked Obi-Wan, thoughtful. “I have shared my story, so how about you share yours? Given the very nature of our common friend, I fully believe it will be interesting too.”

“Depends on your point of view. I never knew my dad, it was only my mother and I. Money got really tight sometimes, but we managed to scrape by. But there was a time when we ended up having some serious financial problems, and this slimy, disgusting little man offered help. Well, more like a job, actually. He was the only one that offered, and we were desperate enough to take it.

“He knew he was our only chance to get money and pay our debts, and he took full advantage of that. We were almost slaves, being at his beck and call, working too much for too little. He always had me watch the store he owned, and even housed us and payed for our basest needs, but of course that only landed us further in debt, which meant having to work more.

“Padmé appeared, then, with a tall, long-haired man. They learned of our situation and the man had an idea. The little man, Watto, was a hopeless gambler. The tall man challenged him to bet against him on an upcoming race, and if he won, Watto would have to release us and forgot all the supposed money we owed him. If Watto won, the man would have to work for him for some time. Watto lost, of course, and we were finally free to start over. Padmé was a constant shadow at that time, talking with me and keeping me entertained while the adults discussed boring topics. I gave her a necklace with a carved piece of wood as a pendant when she left, and I believe she still keeps it, somewhere.”

“Seems Padmé keeps attracting the intriguing kind of people, right? Wherever she goes, something interesting happens,” Obi-Wan remarked, grinning. Anakin laughed openly and nodded.

“She does! I’m not sure if I envy her or not. Her grandchildren with have a lot of good stories to hear.”

Silence fell. Obi-Wan looked out of the window for some time, letting the cozy atmosphere surround him. A stray thought begged for attention, though, so he turned to Anakin once more.

“Your story feels familiar, somehow. Was the tall, long-haired man named Qui-Gon Jinn by any chance?” Obi-Wan asked, with growing suspicion. It would be just like him to go around helping random people, and he shook his head with a mixture of fondness and sadness.

Anakin was visibly shocked, leaning forward with interest. “It was! Wait, is that your guardian? Thinking about it, the timeline _does_ fit. You said little over a decade, right? This happened around thirteen years ago.”

“Indeed it did,” Obi-Wan says, shaking his head with incredulity. “I can’t believe we didn’t meet each other back then. We met the same people at the same time, but never saw the other! What a coincidence.”

“Yeah, I _know_! Qui-Gon helped us get some money and then he left with Padmé. Thankfully, my mom met a farmer and they fell in love and married. The man, Cliegg, already had a son about my age, and it was nice not to be an only child for a while. A few years later, I moved out of Tatooine and came here, to study, and I found Padmé again,” said Anakin, thoughtful, reminiscing. “Did she tell you about the super embarrassing almost-thing we had?” he asked, with the beginning of a blush starting to show.

Obi-Wan grinned unabashedly at the chance to tease another person about the same thing on the same night, and leant forward, with his forearms on the table.

“She did, just earlier, in fact. When I asked for her opinion of you, she said you were ‘pretty cute’ at first, then said you were handsome, and _finally_ admitted you were gorgeous. It was delightful to watch as she fell deeper and deeper into embarrassment.” _And it’s equally so to watch you do the same,_ he thought.

Anakin’s face is fully red by then, his laughter, strained. He looks anywhere but Obi-Wan’s face. “That’s, uhm, good to hear, I guess? When we first met, I asked if she was an angel, because I had always heard that they were the prettiest beings in the universe. It was so awkward!” he laments, dropping his head on his folded arms, the last part coming out muffled. Obi-Wan grins, always happy to tease.

“How old were you then?”

“I was _nine_ ! I mean, I _could_ that as an excuse, but it doesn’t eliminate the feeling of pure mortification from surfacing every single time I remember it,” Anakin groaned. He was blushing so much that even his neck was flushed, and Obi-Wan thought it was adorable.

Taking pity on Anakin, he decided to change the subject. “It’s truly a wonder we didn’t meet back then.” Anakin looked grateful, and Obi-Wan only smiled in response.

“It is. I imagine what would have changed if we had. How old were you, at the time?”

“Had just turned thirteen.”

Both looked around and realized only a handful of people remained in the bar, besides them and Padmé. They let their minds wander, the silence between them comfortable, like they had been friends for a long time instead of mere hours. Maybe in a manner they had, through their common acquaintances.

 

x

 

When Anakin looked up to find the biggest and longest crush of his life sitting in front of him, he was quite understandably shocked. It took him a while to process who it was, and when he realized that he must have kept the man waiting while he drifted in space, the blood rose to his face so fast he could literally hear it, the pound of his heart deafening.

Then he laughed, and cliche as it was, it felt like a singular beam of sunlight and pleasant warmth had hit Anakin right on the face. He felt himself getting redder with the added embarrassment, but inside he was marvelling at that free, unbridled sound. His laugh was even kinder to the ears than his singing.

Some untouched part of his mind remarked sarcastically how _happy_ he was to be that his shame had been the cause of the best laughter the man had in years, while the other ran around screaming the same thing, only without the sarcasm. Of course nothing of that showed on his face. Anakin was a pro, _please_.

Then Anakin opened his mouth, and all that was shot to hell, obviously. He knew the stuttering would haunt him for weeks when he tried to fall asleep, causing his cheeks to heat and annoyance at his own treacherous brain for not letting it go.

And then him, _Obi-Wan_ , and how refreshing it was to finally feel able to call the man by his name, changed the subject, asking him how he met Padmé. That made him think of Qui-Gon again, and thank the man mentally once more, a habit on him and his mother created after they regained their freedom.

Talking about his past crush on Padmé had been embarrassing as all hell. Trust her to mention it to his _current_ crush, as if his life wasn’t complicated enough already.

With that thought, Anakin focused back on the real world and looked at Obi-Wan. It took an embarrassing amount of time to realize that the man was asleep with his head on the table, and he mentally cursed how slow his brain was today.

His face is serene in sleep, mouth partially open. Anakin smiles fondly, supporting his chin on his hand and debating on if he should try to wake the other or wait a little more. Surely, to have fallen asleep in a bar, and in such an uncomfortable position, Obi-Wan must have been quite tired.

Padmé came then, to save him from choosing, with quiet steps and a relaxed posture. When she saw Obi-Wan, her expression turned worried, and Anakin only watched her curiously. She tsked and frowned, turning to him.

Her thoughtful look made some dread pool at the bottom of Anakin’s stomach, knowing that whatever she’d say next would only make his suffering worse. Still, he waited silently for the sentence to be called.

“He must have been very tired to fall asleep here, and like that,” she said quietly, pointing to Obi-Wan, who sleeps on with his head pillowed on his arms. “I’m worried about him. I know he hasn’t been sleeping properly these last weeks, and this only aggravates it.”

“What happened? He seemed sad, for a moment.”

Padmé pursed her lips, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry Ani, I know you’re curious and worried about him too, but that’s not my secret to tell. He’s a very private person, and he trusts me, so I’d rather let him tell you in his own time.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Anakin looks at Obi-Wan again, and just when he’s about to open his mouth and ask what they’ll do with him, she cuts him off.

“I’m really sorry about this, but could you take him to your place?” Frozen, Anakin starts to think on how he might protest, when Padmé cuts him again. “I know it’s sudden, but I couldn’t take him to mine, I don’t have the strength to carry him. He can be a very heavy sleeper, and since he hasn't been doing well these days, I'd hate to wake him up. And also, it wouldn’t be good for him to go around like this.” Her eyes plead to him, and Anakin can do little else than stare at her with his mouth open.

“B-but I couldn’t take him on my bike! You’re the one with a car,” he said, desperate.

“We can switch for tonight, as long as you drop by tomorrow to switch back. I know you only started talking today, and it’s awkward for you, but please Ani, he needs his rest.”

Anakin looks down to the table, trying to find a flaw in her plan. That causes him to miss how Padmé tries and fails to contain her smile.

In the end, he can’t contest her logic. Though very tough, she would never be capable of carrying Obi-Wan through the flight of steps leading to her apartment, and Anakin knows she can drive a bike.

“I know it’s a lot to ask and I know that you’ve had a crush in him since forever, so do both of you a favor and just go, for god’s sake.”

The last commentary makes him flush and splutter, but by the time he tries to tell her to keep his crush out of it, she’s already on the other side of the bar, organizing the last things she needs before going home.

And well, it’s not like _he’d_ be able to leave his crush out of it, so it’s probably best he couldn’t tell her that. It would have only been thrown back on his face in a much more embarrassing manner.

Anakin takes the car keys Padmé left at the table and stands next to Obi-Wan, thinking about the best way to move him, and then realize that she took his keys without him noticing. _Real smooth, Skywalker, you’re at your absolute_ **_best_ ** _today._

After taking a moment to stretch his muscles, Anakin bends down and starts the process of moving Obi-Wan. He gently takes one arm and puts it around his shoulders, taking care to prevent the other’s head from hitting something. Lifting him is harder than expected, but he manages, with only minimal sleepy mumbling from the other.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan’s body helps him, probably on a measure of auto-pilot, his feet cooperating with Anakin so that he doesn’t have to bear the full weight of the other. All indicators of conscience leaves again as soon as Anakin deposits him on the passenger seat though, and he can’t stop the fond and exasperated smile from forming.

The drive home is understandably quiet, and Anakin takes the chance to process the day and relax. His fingers tap against the leather of the wheel to the beat of a random song playing on his head, and he permits the appearance of another smile after glancing at Obi-Wan besides him.

Getting him out of the car ends up being harder than getting him inside it, but he manages. By the time they’ve reached his bedroom, Anakin is panting, his muscles straining. He laughs softly when Obi-Wan seems to wake enough only to take off his shoes and arrange himself on the bed, before becoming dead to the world once more.

He prepares himself to sleep lazily, having reached such a point of calmness that he doesn’t even freak out about having to share a bed with his two-years-long crush, because as much as he would usually dread the mere idea of it, there’s no way he’s sleeping on the too-small couch, and he’d never let a guest sleep on it either.

Although kind of creepy, Anakin permits himself to look at Obi-Wan for a while, without shame or fear of being caught. He looks adorable in sleep, with hair askew and relaxed features, and Anakin smiles dopily.

Actually laying down beside Obi-Wan does summon butterflies to him stomach, but he manages to wrestle them into compliance without too much hassle. After covering them both with the blanket, he turns on his side to face Obi-Wan, who is sleeping on his back.

Anakin is pretty sure he falls asleep with a smile on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long to update this! I know I suck. Still, I won't abandon it, I promise! Sometimes I look at it's document and my mind just goes blank, and in the end nothing comes out. But I'll force it out, if I have to.  
> It didn't help that this is the slow part between the first meeting and the second, the ones where your brain just wants to leave you via your ears, and there's nothing you can do to stop it...  
> I hope you have fun with it, even if it's small and not exactly rich in content. I just haven't updated in so long and I decided that a small update is better than no update at all.  
> God, I suck.

Obi-Wan was startled awake by a sudden sting of pain and a loud sound. He realized some moments later that both had been a result from falling from an unknown bed, and he frowned, looking around. The room was nowhere near familiar, and his last memories didn’t match with his current situation.

He sat up, wincing when another wave of pain passed through, coming from his hipbone, which had probably taken the brunt of his fall. Glancing to the bed provided Obi-Wan’s brain the visual information of a shirtless and alert-looking Anakin, also staring at him with surprise and an increasing degree of amusement.

Understandably, it took some time to process that, and the confusion probably showing on his face was only making Anakin’s smile grow, until it was more of a grin.

“How did I get here?”

Anakin laughs with delight, letting himself drop back on the bed. “You fell asleep on the bar, with your _head_ on a _table_. Padmé successfully manipulated me into bringing you here, which, by the way, is my place. You were so tired that you were helping me move you on autopilot. I kinda wish I had taken some pictures.”

Obi-Wan blushes with embarrassment, and rises gingerly to sit on the mattress. “I’m glad you didn’t think of it, and Padmé always gets what she wants.”

“And that I cannot contest.”

Of course, because Obi-Wan’s brain hated him, it chose that moment to look at Anakin properly. Seeing the other splayed stomach down on the bed, shirtless and with loose pants low on his hips didn’t help his blush _at all_. The relaxed posture sent his mind to the gutter faster than his still sleep-addled state should be capable of, and Obi-Wan suddenly wished to be swallowed by the earth.

Thankfully, Anakin had been blind to it. “She said you weren’t getting much rest, which I could’ve realized myself. The bags under your eyes look even worse than mine, and _that’s_ a feat,” he said with a self-deprecating grin, and his mind went somber in a second.

“I know, it’s bad. I try sleeping properly, but the nightmares…”

Anakin sighed, turning on his front and looking distant. “I get you, I have my own. They can get pretty graphic sometimes, and I’ve had plenty of almost-no-sleep spells.”

Obi-Wan lowers his head, trying to release grief’s hold on his conscience. The morning had started and progressed well so far, although strange, and he didn’t want to ruin the friendly atmosphere.

When he looks around again, Anakin is standing up and stretching, and this time his brain’s observations on the other’s physique are a welcome distraction, and he permits himself to follow Anakin around with his eyes.

The other picks up his phone and makes a sound of surprise, suddenly alert. He looks back at Obi-Wan and sees the question in his gaze.

“It’s almost midday! I can’t believe I slept so much today,” he explains, and Obi-Wan shares in his surprise. _No wonder I feel so alert, I’ve finally gotten a decent amount of sleep._ “I’m going to make some lunch, any preferences?”

“No, I’m not a picky eater. Surprise me,” Obi-Wan challenges with a grin.

“Oh, you’re on!”

And if Obi-Wan allows himself to smile, already fond of Anakin’s personality, no one would be able to judge him.

 

x

 

After eating lunch and bickering a lot, both settle on the sofa to play video games. Mario Kart is, as always, a classic to shake the pillars of friendship all around, with lots of screams and accusations of unfairness. After a particularly memorable match involving a blue shell, Obi-Wan tries to smother Anakin with a stray pillow, a situation that ends with both lying on the floor, breathless from laughing.

Anakin hands Obi-Wan some of his clothes when they finally quiet down, and unsuccessfully tries to keep himself from staring when the other comes out of the bathroom, with still-wet hair, wearing something of _his_ . Anakin doesn’t know if he should praise or curse whoever is up there for the opportunity of seeing his crush like that, but the choice is ripped from him when Obi-Wan plops back on the sofa at his side and positively _beams_ at him.

Anakin is _so_ screwed. He doesn’t even want to know what he did in his past lives to deserve all this.

The rest of the afternoon is spent trash talking the worst TV shows they can find, and _of course_ it turns into a competition of who can create the most scathing commentary, which ends with no clear victors.

When the sun begins its descent on the horizon, Anakin starts getting ready to go to the bar again, wanting his bike back as soon as possible. Obi-Wan watches him wearily, visibly creating defenses for something unknown to Anakin.

When Anakin asks him if he wants a ride back to his place, Obi-Wan pauses subtly, but Anakin sees it. Two years of watching Obi-Wan from afar have granted him the knowledge of _some_ of his tells, after all.

Obi-Wan accepts the offer, but Anakin is quick to remind him that he doesn’t _need_ to go, he is welcome to stay one more day, he isn’t being a burden, on the contrary, actually. Obi-Wan takes the offer after showing the appropriate amount of hesitation, and Anakin reads the immense thankfulness in the relaxed lines of his body. He leaves the house with a smile, and hums the whole way to Amidala’s.

 

x

 

Padmé sends him looks with barely contained curiosity the whole time he is there. Anakin takes pleasure in ignoring it and watching her squirm with the need to ask. “Not today,” he says, just before leaving, already halfway out of the door. He wasn’t going to give anything, but decided she deserved a reward for not pressing the matter vocally.

She smiles brilliantly, finally at ease, seeming to have figured out that things were going marvelously. “My best wishes to you, Anakin. You have earned your happiness,” she says, giving him a heartfelt hug. He can see in her eyes that she is remembering Shmi and the many other hardships he's endured throughout his life..

He blushes slightly, feeling a burst of affection towards her. “Thanks, Padmé. It means a lot.”

 

x

 

With Anakin away, Obi-Wan finally takes the chance to explore his surroundings and get a true read from his host. Careful as to not disrupt the organized mess, he walks from room to room, looking at old photographs and the trophies that hang on the walls. He learns of Anakin’s interests in many different sports, and sees in it a need to be in constant movement. A closer look to the photos makes him realize that Anakin’s mother is in most of them, always displaying the love she felt for her son with reservations.

He finds many unfinished projects around the house, and mechanical parts _everywhere_. Obi-Wan is certain that there must be tools even in the under Anakin’s pillow, but refrains for confirming his beliefs, not wanting to pry in respect of the trust Anakin has placed in him, by letting him be alone in his house.

Obi-Wan ends his exploration in the kitchen, trying to familiarize himself with the layout and the placement of the utensils, intent on making dinner as repayment for spending another night on Anakin’s place. He checks the fridge and the cupboards, wanting something simple to make. He quickly realizes that there are not many options and laughs while shaking his head. Somehow, that doesn’t surprise him at all.

After finishing his once-over, Obi-Wan starts gathering the necessary ingredients. He feels somewhat giddy, wondering what Anakin’s reaction to coming home to a freshly-prepared meal could possibly be. He would bet his favorite book collection on the fact that the first thing Anakin will do is complain and tell him he is a guest and doesn’t need to do anything. He makes a quick trip to the living room to get his phone and resumes cooking after putting his playlist on, movements even more relaxed.

Music had always been a sanctuary to Obi-Wan. It is a quick and easy way to take a break from reality and create imaginary worlds, a pastime he greatly enjoys. Getting a regular spot at Padmé’s stage had been a stroke of luck, one he still appreciated. He laughed quietly, an image of his friend as Queen of a whole planet suddenly appearing on his mind, and decided it would be a very fortunate planet indeed.

Over the sound of the music, he hears a faint tinkling of metal, and doesn’t even try to suppress his grin. Straining to hear Anakin’s footsteps while pretending to be unaware of his arrival is hard, but Obi-Wan manages. He seems to stop close to the doorway, probably having picked up on the scent of food. His next steps are much more hurried, and Obi-Wan fights to keep from smiling, wanting to act like he’s surprised.

He turns his head just as Anakin stops on the doorway, looking as if he had been caught off-guard. Anakin, on the other hand, is frowning unhappily. His inherent curiosity wins, and he gives a few tentative steps forward, wanting to know what is being made.

Obi-Wan points to a small plate, which contains a fresh sample, still steaming from the heat of the pot. Anakin gets a little closer, cautious,, and snatches it away quickly, as if fearing Obi-Wan will take it from him.

On the first spoonful, Anakin makes an expression of surprise, and Obi-Wan grins with pride. A blink later, the plate is clean, and a very excited Anakin is crowding his personal space, almost drooling. This time, Obi-Wan doesn’t contain his laugh or the amusement almost radiating out of him.

Anakin frowns again. “No, wait. Your cooking is _very_ good,” he looks at the pot again intently, and Obi-Wan can almost see a plan to steal it formulating inside his head, “but you’re a guest. You shouldn’t be doing this, _I_ should be the one doing stuff for you,” he pouts, finally taking his eyes out of the food.

“Do you want me to toss it out? I will, if you are so set in providing.” The rising horror in Anakin’s face is hilarious, of course, and Obi-Wan loves it.

“ _No_! I mean, no, don’t. Please don’t,” he says, raising his hands to stop anything bad from happening to what seems to be the new love of his life.

Obi-Wan finally cracks, letting out a loud guffaw, and Anakin turns red when he realizes he has been played. “I’m sorry, it was just so funny to see you getting so riled up about it! I don’t plan on turning this a habit, laughing at you I mean,” he says, still with a big grin, lightly stroking his beard with one hand. “Somehow, I _knew_ one of your weaknesses would be food.”

Anakin manages an embarrassed smile as he sets the table for both of them. “If it’s homemade, it’s an even bigger one. The way to my heart is providing me with good stuff to eat.”

After serving the meal and sitting on one of the chairs, Obi-Wan says, almost absentmindedly, “Then I’m lucky to be a good cook, hm?” and starts eating soon after. Anakin almost chokes on his mouthful, and then tries valiantly to cough and splutter simultaneously, face going from normal to deep red in a matter of seconds. Obi-Wan looks up worriedly, reaching out to touch Anakin’s forearm. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m f-fine,” he responds, staring at Obi-Wan, clearly trying to decide if he had imagined the remark or not, but Obi-Wan had already erased any evidence of it from his posture.

He wonders for the rest of the evening, and Obi-Wan finds pleasure in letting him do so.

 

x

 

The next morning, Anakin is the first to wake up. He watches Obi-Wan for a few minutes, a deep gratitude for the last two days settling inside his bones. He rises silently and sets out to prepare breakfast, already knowing that Obi-Wan will want to go back to his house, even if he might not feel ready to do it.

But Anakin has no right to meddle in the man’s affairs, and not enough familiarity to extend his help when Obi-Wan is clearly trying to fight it on his own, no matter how stupid Anakin thinks that is. He will drive him back and let him know he’s always welcome in his place, and hope Obi-Wan goes to him one day. Hell, with how he looked when there was nothing to distract him, Anakin would be happy even if he decided to unburden his soul to a dog, if it helped in the end.

Obi-Wan enters the kitchen still rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes, and sits heavily on one of the chairs, pillowing his head on his arms. “Finally sleeping well after a long time screws you up. Feels like I could sleep for a week and still be tired,” he complains, following it with a long groan of despair. Anakin chuckles and nods, even though Obi-Wan can’t see it.

He deposits a steaming mug of coffee before Obi-Wan, who raises his head just enough to look at it for a while before grabbing the cup to drink half of it in one go. Anakin grins and sets to finish preparing their breakfast.

The meal is filled with pointless, pleasant conversation, comforting and domestic in a way Anakin loves. He misses living with another sometimes, a house where he didn’t have only photographs for company, but always refrains from dwelling on that feeling for too long. It only brings bad memories to the surface.

After showering, they settle on the living room again, exchanging contact informations and catching up with their social media. They start texting each other even though they’re in the same room, and Anakin revels in Obi-Wan’s crystalline laugh every time he manages to say something funny.

But then Obi-Wan’s reactions get a little more restrained, a little more controlled, and Anakin watches him in silence, letting the other prepare himself for whatever he wants to say.

“I should probably head home,” he almost whispers, head bowed, before turning to Anakin with a half forced smile. “I had a wonderful time, and an even better sleep, but I don’t want to intrude more than I already have.”

“You haven’t. You aren’t. But still, it’s your choice. Need a ride?”

Obi-Wan’s smile turns a little more genuine. “If you can. I don’t know exactly where I am in the city, so yeah,” he says, amused, and Anakin grins, happy to see a lighter atmosphere.

“Oh it’s true, you were asleep the whole way here! Well, no problem, that can be resolved easily,” Anakin says, standing up. “Just let me change and we can head out. Do you have all your stuff?”

“Yeah, nothing’s missing,” Obi-Wan answers, patting himself down to be completely sure, and Anakin makes a sound of agreement.

When they pull out of his driveway, Anakin becomes very happy with his past self, for deciding to buy a bike instead of a car. His vehicle of choice makes it mandatory for Obi-Wan to hold on tight to him, and _that_ makes him giddy.

Nevertheless, he manages to keep his cool on the outside, listening to the address and general directions attentively. It will be a little strange to be alone after spending over twenty-four hours in close quarters with another person, but even that can’t diminish the contentedness slowly seeping into his being. In the end, he wouldn’t trade those hours for anything else in the world. Just the fact that he had the opportunity of actually _meeting_ his crush makes him feel almost at peace with life in general.

The drive is over sooner than he’d like, but Anakin takes what he can. Less than five minutes after stopping in front of Obi-Wan’s apartment building, their goodbyes are already said, and then Anakin is left waving at Obi-Wan’s back. He puts his helmet back in place and speeds out, his mind silent.

For once, it doesn’t bother him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first thing, sorry for taking so long??? I was super focused on another project that turned out to be over 20k words, I apologize.  
> Anyway, just to communicate something you've probably already noticed: I decided that it doesn't matter where in the world they live, since that's not the focus, and it gives me the space to put whatever I want on their city, which is a bonus ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Anyway, enjoy your future suffering?

When Thursday finally comes back around, Anakin spends the day practically vibrating out of his skin. He had wanted to talk with Padmé earlier in the week, but it seemed like the universe was out to get him in the last five days. Everyone suddenly had something that they needed him to look over, some project that wasn’t working like it should, something that broke with no reason -- one of the downfalls of having the reputation of being one of the best engineers slash mechanics around, and approachable to boot, was that everyone went to him first.

Anakin was lucky that Thursdays were known as his ‘I’m dead to the world’ days. It was a running joke, even, how he’d completely vanish on the end of Wednesday and reappear again at Friday, seemingly with no change at all.

Only his closest friends knew where he disappeared to, and they had decided long ago that letting the others speculate was just too good of an opportunity to pass. The incredulous things a curious mind could conjure up were simply _amazing._

As Anakin prepares himself to leave the workshop, he hears Ahsoka coming to him. One look at the huge grin in her face and he’s already rolling his eyes and bracing himself for the teasing.

She speaks in a low tone even though the room is deserted. Ahsoka is, after all, the leader of the ‘keep Anakin’s whereabouts a secret’ group, and that translates into near paranoia.

“That’s early even for you, Skyguy. Finally found the courage to talk to him? Gonna meet him before the show, make out a little?” Anakin blushes and rolls his eyes again, harder than before, and she grins even wider. How is he her best friend again?

“No, Snips, I’m not. I want to talk with Padmé about something important.”

“Important, yeah. Can imagine what it is,” Ahsoka says, jumping a little to be able to seat herself at his table.

“Oh, c’mon, Snips, can it.”

“You know, I just noticed how you didn’t exactly deny you talking with him, just the make out part. Is there something you’re not telling me, Skyguy? Because if you are, you know I’ll find out. I have my ways.”

“I know you do, Ahsoka. I do have something to tell you, I just don’t have the time right now,” Anakin says, readying himself to leave.

She gets up and blocks his path, both hands on her waist, and a mock disapproval look on her face. “Oh no, mister, you aren’t leaving like that after what you just said. Did you _really_ talk with him? I can’t believe it! Never thought I’d see the day!”

Anakin blushes again, and ducks his head a bit. “I did, okay? But I really can’t tell you everything right now. I promised Padmé I would go early to talk with her.”

“That means something big happened! And wait, she was totally the one to push him to you, right? You wouldn’t initiate things after two years of inaction.” Ahsoka watched him closely for any signs that could prove her right, and clearly found them. “Knew it! Oh, Skyguy, you’re gonna spit out everything, to the smallest detail!”

Anakin grins despite himself, happy to see her so excited, even if it’s about his non existent love life. “I promise I will, later.”

At that, she sobers up and looks at him petulantly. “You had all week to talk about it! You only mentioned it now because you have a good reason to escape. I know you, Skywalker! You only think you’re free. But just you wait…”

Anakin watches amusedly as she wags her index finger at him, reminding him of cranky old ladies trying to chastise a kid for doing something bad. He shakes his head and smiles fondly at her. “I know you can be scary, Snips, so don’t worry, you don’t have to try to intimidate me. Just wait until tomorrow, ‘kay?”

She crosses her arms but nods, and he deposits a sloppy kiss on her cheek on retaliation for the embarrassment, and laughs all the way out while she makes disgusted noises behind him.

 

x

 

An hour later, Anakin arrives at Amidala’s, with windswept hair and face flushed from the biting wind. He sits on the bar and waits as she attends to other patrons, taking the time to look around. So soon after the opening time, it’s still fairly deserted, with only the loyal customers already at their usual tables, so it’s not long before she sits at his side, clearly eager.

“So, how was it? Did you enjoy your time together?”

The whole story falls from his lips between what seems to be one blink and the other, but in truth it takes over an hour. After singing his praises to Obi-Wan’s cooking, telling her all about their adventures into the world of bad TV and how _nice_ it had been, he stops and takes a deep breath, feeling almost unburdened. He accepts the glass of water Padmé puts in front of him and watches her as she processes everything Anakin has said.

“So, just one clarification. I set you up so that you would finally, _finally_ talk with your crush. I gave you the perfect opportunity to confess and now you’re telling me you didn’t make _one_ move, not even a _small_ one? Anakin Skywalker, I am very disappointed in you. You just love to destroy my every effort, don’t you?” she finishes, and then ruins her appearance of seriousness with a satisfied smile.

Anakin blushes and then scoffs a little, lowering his head. “You know I wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Of course -- Anakin, that’s one of the things I admire in you. I know you know this, but it gets frustrating after awhile, seeing you like that. You deserve to be happy, and so does he, and I really think you can achieve that together. But you’re both too thickheaded to _do_ anything, and it makes me mad.”

“That’s high praise right there, Padmé. And, in a way, I understand… It’s hard to keep wishing from afar, sometimes.”

“I know, dear. But everything will turn out alright, you’ll see,” she says, straightening her posture and smiling. “I have faith in you both.” Padmé busies herself for a while, but Anakin sticks around, because he’s known her long enough to realize when she wants to say something. “Anakin… Did Obi-Wan say anything about what’s bothering him?” she finally asks, tentative and a little concerned.

“No, he didn’t. When I came here to get my bike, I asked if he wanted a ride home; he accepted after a pause, so I said he could spend the night again, and he looked very grateful for it. Well, he ended up sleeping there again,” Anakin responds, equally worried, though he doesn’t even know the reason for it.

Padmé looked sad, and they stayed silent for a while. Then suddenly, she moved again, and with a partially forced smile, said, “No use moping around because of it, right? There’s a business to be run, after all.”

She kisses his cheek playfully, and Anakin smiles back and gets up, walking to his usual table at the corner and sitting heavily on the chair before immersing himself in his thoughts.

 

x

 

Obi-Wan arrives at the bar earlier than usual. As soon as he rounds up the corner, he tries to make himself appear a little more alert, tries to stop the faint dragging of his feet. He knows he looks like death at the moment, has had more than half a dozen coworkers come at him with pity and concern in the last four days, and _god,_ he’s sick of it.

At least while at Amidala’s, he only had to worry about Padmé and maybe now Anakin trying to ask him about it; all the other patrons knew not to poke their noses where they do not belong. Obi-Wan loves Padmé, he really does, but her approaches became old weeks ago, and he spares a moment to pray that Anakin isn’t the same as her.

When he steps in the bar, the first thing he does is look at the corner where Anakin sits. The man in question is looking up and out of the glass front, probably to that little patch of sky that somehow manages to stay visible amidst the various tall buildings around them. Anakin notices him as Obi-Wan walks to the table, and he smiles a little at the thought that at least one of them is alert today.

Anakin’s smile disappears as soon as Obi-Wan gets close enough, being replaced by shock, and Obi-Wan can’t say he’s surprised. He braces himself for the litany of ‘I’m so worried about you’ and ‘I only want what’s best for you’ that generally accompany that expression.

Instead, he gets a _“Wow,_ you look like _shit!”_ that is so blunt it was probably unintended. His theory is confirmed when Anakin blushes a bit. “Sorry, didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. It’s true, though.”

Obi-Wan gives him a small self-deprecating smile. “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I hear that these days,” he says as he waves his hand, as if brushing away the apology.

“You’re still not sleeping well?” Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan shakes his head. “But you slept so well at my place!”

“I know, but the nightmares rarely let me close my eyes. It will pass, I’m sure of it.”

Anakin is clearly unconvinced, but he lets it drop, something for which Obi-Wan is grateful. It takes some time, but Obi-Wan manages to distract Anakin from it, and they spend the hour before his performance discussing about the movies they like and the ones they don’t. It’s simple in a way Obi-Wan appreciates; uncomplicated, so unlike his interactions with nearly anyone else for the past few months.

He tries his best not to let his bone-deep _exhaustion_ affect his performance, but he notices the edge of tiredness creeping onto his voice by the distress on Anakin’s face, clear across the room. Padmé, thank the heavens, decided to let him be for the day, so he’s free to drag himself back to Anakin’s table after leaving the stage without perturbations.

Obi-Wan ignores Anakin’s worry, choosing to let the wall support him as he drifts off instead. Just when the world starts to fade away and Morpheus opens his arms to welcome him, Obi-Wan hears the scrape of a chair on the wooden floor, and jerks himself awake to see Anakin standing up before him, this time looking very determined.

“Okay, that’s enough. I’m not letting you sleep on that table again,” he says as he moves to Obi-Wan’s side. “I’m pretty sure your sleeping problem is connected to where you live, so we’re gonna go there, you’ll pick some clothes and then we’ll go back to my house. Deal?”

Obi-Wan is too stunned to do more than nod and accept the hand Anakin extends to help him stand. He stays in that same spot while Anakin goes to say goodbye to Padmé, trying to process what just happened. It makes him happy that the other chose to act instead of talk, and Obi-Wan files it away as a probable Anakin trait.

Obi-Wan gives his first genuine smile of the entire week when Anakin returns to his side, asking if he’s ready to go.

The always-biting wind from the ride keeps him alert. As they move away from the entertainment district and into the residential one, the city becomes progressively quieter around them, and it all gives Obi-Wan an inner peace that has been all too hard to find lately.

They reach his apartment building with only a few wrong turns, which reveals to Obi-Wan that Anakin’s got a good sense of direction. The doorman lets them in with an amicable smile, and they take the elevator to Obi-Wan’s floor in an easy silence.

Once they’re inside, Obi-Wan wastes no time in gathering his stuff in a bag while Anakin looks around.  He is clearly curious, but asks nothing, and Obi-Wan counts his blessings for it. They leave as quietly as they came, and Obi-Wan clings to Anakin’s waist, feeling as if grief is a near-physical thing, quickly catching up with him, uncaring about the bike’s speed.

He doesn’t mind that Anakin watches him as they go through their bedtime routines, because he sees there is no expectation or that damned pity on his gaze -- only an understanding, gentle concern for a friend. Both of them get on the bed, but sleep decides to evade Obi-Wan’s grasp, and it’s easy to see that Anakin’s mind is far too alert to settle down anytime soon.

The only light in the room comes from Anakin’s phone -- the curtains are shut and Anakin turns off all the lights before going to bed -- but it manages to be soothing instead of oppressive to Obi-Wan. There is no baggage of his tied to this house, no memories.

Obi-Wan can’t say how long he spends staring at the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing in the universe. He only realizes it’s been a while when Anakin moves to put his phone back in his bedside table. Obi-Wan turns his head a little to watch as Anakin gets comfortable -- he stays on his side, facing Obi-Wan, close enough to touch if he wished to, but far enough for it not to be overbearing.

They stay there, almost as if suspended in time, for a while more. But Obi-Wan’s reprieves are always brief, and unwanted memories always come back before he’s ready. Between one blink and the next, the entire night he desires so hard to forget hits him like whirlwind, and his eyes fill with persistent tears.

He wanted to be able to say it was sudden, but it wasn’t -- it was something that he’d come to expect, that happened nearly every time he actively tried to sleep, and it no longer surprised him. But tonight, he had company, someone that could give him a measure of comfort, and his treacherous body reaches for Anakin without his approval, fingers extending and moving to the other side of the bed.

Anakin notices the movement, tilts his head up and takes Obi-Wan’s hand in his, squeezing it shortly, gently. That’s all it takes for a sob to break free, sudden and loud in Anakin’s dark bedroom.

Obi-Wan moves to lie on his side just as Anakin goes up on the bed to embrace him, and Obi-Wan lets himself be held as he cries openly, without shame, and without attempting to hide it. He stays there in the warmth and comfort of Anakin’s arms until his tears stop and his sobs subside, until all he has left is that damned emptiness that never goes away.

It’s then that he starts to talk, voice a whisper, too tired for anything else. “I know you have a theory of sorts, about what’s-- affecting me. You’re free to say it, I won’t bite.”

Anakin thinks for a while, still rubbing soothing circles on Obi-Wan’s back. “Qui-Gon is dead, isn’t he? It was unexpected, no time to get used to the idea of it,” he answers in an equally low voice, slow and pondering.

Obi-Wan curls up just a little bit more, drawing closer to Anakin, tightening the arm around his waist before finally nodding. He stays silent for a while, and Anakin doesn’t press any further.

“It was… a car accident. We were going back home after a night of hanging out with friends. It was quite late and the streets were empty, just us in a content silence with not a soul in sight, filled with that rare, late-night kind of peace, you know?” Obi-Wan starts, and Anakin nods in response.

“The classic calm before the storm, huh?”

Obi-Wan laughs without mirth. “Yeah, exactly that. We didn’t even have music on; the windows were down and we were just enjoying the night’s chill and the quietness,” he says, nearly wistful. “Then an intersection came up, and the light was red for us, so we waited. Moved few seconds after it turned green, but-” Obi-Wan pauses, trying to swallow the knot on his throat. Anakin hugs him tighter and rubs his back, wordlessly communicating his support.

“Take however long you need,” Anakin whispers into Obi-Wan’s hair.

“There was a truck, at high speed. The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel, so he couldn’t see the red light, and the truck hit us on Qui-Gon’s side,” he continues, feeling more tears gather at his eyes while the scene replays on his mind. “It completely destroyed our car. Qui-Gon was stuck, and when I became conscious again I tried to free him but-- but there were pieces of metal from the car’s frame st- sticking out of him. Anakin, there was s- _so much_ ** _blood,_** all over _everything,_ and he was sputtering and trying to breath properly but he _couldn’t_ and then he looked at me and reached out but he d-- he-- _fuck,_ I can’t say it--”

“It’s alright, you don’t need to say it, it’s okay,” Anakin shushes him, and Obi-Wan feels something wet reach his scalp, but his brain is too focused on crying to realize that Anakin is, too. “I got you, Obi-Wan, I got you now.”

 

x

 

When tears run out for the second time that day, the silence returns, though sleep still eludes their grasp. Obi-Wan feels nearly content at finally talking about it with someone he trusts -- not that he’d ever admit it to Padmé -- but if he plans on sleeping anytime this night, he need a distraction to take him away from the memories of the accident.

“Ana-” he tries, but his voice fails, so he clears his throat and then tries again. “Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you tell me something? Like something about you, or a friend, or a situation? Anything, really.”

They move away from each other a little, and immediately feel the consequences of staying in the same position for who knows how long: soreness. They move back to their previous sides, but Anakin keeps their hands linked, to continue demonstrating comfort.

Obi-Wan watches as Anakin hums, clearly trying to decide what to talk about. He grins when he settles on something.

“I did mechanical engineering on the nearby college, and since I’m obviously the best, I still get called there to help on projects and fix stuff others can’t figure out,” he starts, and Obi-Wan smiles the littlest bit at his confidence. “On the year of my graduation, I met this girl, a freshman, named Ahsoka. We got on like a house on fire, and were it not for Padmé and some teachers we’d probably _have_ actually set a house on fire,” Anakin laughs, and Obi-Wan chuckles with him.

“For some reason, it’s not hard for me to imagine such a thing,” Obi-Wan comments, and Anakin acts offended.

“Hey! We took every precaution, but stuff just liked to explode on us! Anyway, she’s this tiny person, super snippy -- that’s what I call her by the way, Snips -- and takes no shit, ever. She’ll be super excited to meet you.”

“You talk about me to your friends? That’s so cute, Anakin.” Said man blushes and swats at Obi-Wan’s arm, and both of them end up laughing about it.

Anakin talks about Ahsoka and their many, _many_ antics until they literally can’t stay awake anymore, and then they drift off feeling lighter and a little more at peace, with hands still linked.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I know it will take a while to post the next. My brain is slow in writing just as Anakin's is slow in realizing things. bye


End file.
